Examining third-level marking methods
Last week’s Ticket, the entertainment supplement with The Irish Times, included an article wherein three Ticket journos attempted to complete a third-level music management exam. They each achieved marks in the low 70s – 79% for Jim Caroll, 71% for Tony Clayton-Lea and 73% for Sinéad Gleeson. But what was illuminating, more than anything else, was the verdict of the examiner.
Carroll showed an “outstanding depth of analysis”; Clayton-Lea had an “encyclopaedic knowledge matched by strength of topic”; Gleeson was “magnificent on overall context impact of technology on musical trends since the 1960s”. And we all know that anything above 70% in an Irish third-level exam is a magnificent thing, indeed. But an American student, upon receipt of a mark in the 70s, would know that somewhere, somehow, something had gone horrifically wrong. And they would demand to know what.
When I was doing my undergraduate degree (Arts, but of course), one of our Italian lecturers was “straight off the boat”. She had arrived from Perugia that September to lecture in Italian language; she spoke Italian to us, which was the first indicator that something was entirely wrong, and wouldn’t listen to our protestations, in English. “Rrrrros-merrreeee”, she would admonish, as my garbled Italian confused issues further. She was a revelation. It was after our first assignments were marked that we realised how revolutionary she could really be, given the leeway.
“I shouldn’t say this,” she said, as we all leaned in closer to hear what prohibited words were about to be spouted. “But I was told – and I can nah believe this – that I can nah give you above 80%! What is this? Why? I ask, I ask, but I am told no, you do nah get above 80%.”
We had long suspected this to be the case; in Irish universities, marks above 80 do not exist or, if they do, it is in the realm of maths and science, where facts are facts and objectivity is left at the door. For lowly arts students, the most insightful of English essays always leaves “room for improvement”; the laboured-upon Italian analysis is “lacking in context”. When it comes to subjectivity, Arts is the field in which it is used – and abused – most.
American students (I was in the choir; if you want to meet American students, join a choir) expressed horror, shock, disgust, at this treatment of marking. Some were safe enough – their year abroad would not be included in their overall marks – while others would regularly turn up at lecturers’ doorways, demanding an explanation. It’s too simple a solution to declare that our universities have higher standards than theirs – it’s patently obvious to me and, I would imagine, to most people who completed Arts degrees, that they do not. Because, while few people, if any, received marks above 80%, even fewer received marks below 40%. It’s as difficult to fail an Arts degree as it is to excel in one.
There is something seriously wrong with the Irish university system. We are teaching our students that it is easy to pass, but impossible to do excellently. I’ve had lecturers congratulate me on handing in the “best essay” of the year – that same essay for which I received a 78%. I can only assume they’re waiting for the next James Joyce before they start handing out 85% . . . but then, of course, marks would be deducted for syntax, spelling and grammar, and Joyce would, most likely, languish in the mid-70s before getting turned off English altogether and absconding to the realm of teaching or journalism.
If ever there was a time for reformation, it is now. Marking methods (don’t get me started on paying teachers twice for one day – holiday pay + voluntary exam marking) have long called for re-evaluation. If you want a consultant, I’ll do it for free; I have a lot to say on the subject.
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1Gav
wrote on 28 December 2009 at 14:23
I’ve lost count of the number of times that friends in arts and humanities subjects have been told that their essays were the best a certain lecture had ever seen, amazing depth of research, etc etc… and been given the best mark that lecturer could possibly give: 69%.
I think the fact that ‘per cent’ contains the word ‘cent’ is the clincher.
2Bernie Goldbach
wrote on 29 December 2009 at 14:36
I’m an extern appointed by HETAC. i award marks in the 90s for model answers and my colleagues have not accussed meof grade inflation. There is latitude for curving Irish third level marks and standards upwards.
3Psmith
wrote on 29 December 2009 at 17:14
Oh get over yourself. All marking systems are in the end arbitrary systems of measurement, and no particular mark is meaningful unless it’s understood in context. The logic behind our system in Irish (and British) humanities departments is that we mark out of the possible range of acheivement, not just undergraduate achievement. So, 100% is perfection, which is impossible. A mark in the 90s would be awarded to the finest scholars of their generation (and I don’t just mean undergraduates, I mean advanced and experienced scholars), and a mark in the 80s would indicate an achievement perhaps around the level of a good PhD. Therefore, a mark in the 70s is the highest an undergraduate, no matter how good, is likely to get.
And for the record, those American students could have saved themselves the bother of demanding that the Irish system be changed. If their Irish marks count towards their degrees back in the US, they will be recalibrated to US-style marks, according to a formula their own university’s international office uses. All universities do this to calculate international marks.
So, there’s nothing wrong with the way Irish universities mark.
4rosemary
wrote on 29 December 2009 at 17:29
I understand the points made, but I don’t understand why undergraduates would be expected to be at PhD standard to expect a mark above 80. Bernie, do you mark humanities papers or which do you mark? And are you given a template / guidelines (out of interest)?
Psmith, while I respect your opinion, it is just that (to which you are entitled). But equally, I am entitled to mine and don’t see how it warrants a “get over yourself”. I’m continually surprised by how the Internet allows people to be so much ruder than they would be in real life.